


Suck

by Thistlerose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, MWPP Era, Marauders' Era, pretending to be straight and failing miserably, sucking the poison out of someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-19
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 18:48:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The things we do for friendship.  Written in 2005.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suck

**Author's Note:**

> This is _not_ what you're supposed to do when someone's been poisoned. Suspend your disbelief for the sake of the story, please.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me."

"Look," James says, and even in the shadows Remus can see that his face is flaming red. "I don't kid when I've got my trousers around my ankles. _Look_ at this thing. Are you _looking_?"

" _No,_ " Remus says emphatically. He is _not_ looking at James's naked thighs. He is not looking at the smooth white skin, or the flat belly, or the trail of short black hairs that disappear under the elastic waistband of James's y-fronts. He is certainly _not_ looking at the bulge at the front of said y-fronts, and he is _absolutely, positively not_ ruminating on the fact that said y-fronts are still soaked from their swim in the lake and that they hide relatively little.

"Fucking spider," James mutters. "I _saw_ the little bugger. Two seconds _after_ it bit me, naturally. _Look_ at this! It's practically _purple_. And there are little...red veiny line things. _Look._ "

"I'm looking," Remus says, his mouth quite dry. He wants to lick his lips – they're dry, too – but James might get the wrong idea.

Of course, James is the one standing among the reeds on the side of the lake with his trousers around his ankles, ordering Remus to look at a spot approximately a finger's length south of his groin.

Remus is glad that he dressed quickly, and that it's dark. James isn't Sirius but, well, he's James, and James is...

Probably in a considerable amount of danger, Remus thinks hazily. That spider bite does not look benign.

"Should get you to Pomfrey. Quickly. I'll find Sirius and Peter."

"There isn't _time_!" insists James. "I've got to walk back and – there isn't time. It _feels_ odd. Burns, sort of. We've got to do something now."

James says something else, and Remus is dumbstruck for a moment because to his ears what James says sounds something like, _You've got to suck out the poison!_

But, no. James must have said something else, and Remus only heard it wrong because he's _still_ staring at James's naked thighs and all the blood is rushing loudly from his head to his cock.

"Quick," James hisses.

It's wrong, thinks Remus, _very_ wrong, to be sporting an erection when his friend may be in mortal danger.

" _Please_." James's voice has dropped to a whisper, but the obvious strain in it pierces Remus's haze and brings him back to his senses.

 _James. Mortal danger. Right._

"Please," James whispers again. The scarlet has drained from his cheeks. He's quite pale, now. He's frightened, though Remus doubts he'll admit it. "Please. Suck it out. It's all right. I'm not – I mean, we're not poofs. It's all right. I won't tell anyone, I promise. Just – please. It really burns."

Remus doesn't remember dropping to his knees, but suddenly there he is, with pine needles, little twigs, and pebbles poking him. He doesn't want to wrap his hands around James's thigh, but he needs to hold onto _something_ , and it doesn't help – it _really_ doesn't help – that James's _packet_ is _right there_ , nudging his ear.

James's skin is cold and pricked with goose bumps, except around the spider bite. That patch of skin is hot and angry-looking, and it is with great reluctance that Remus puts his lips to it and begins to suck as hard as he can.

Above him, James chokes on a curse. He stumbles, but Remus clutches him tightly. James grabs a fistful of Remus's hair, almost yanking his head back and very nearly causing him to swallow the blood and – he hopes – venom in his mouth.

"Sorry." Still a whisper. He's trembling now. He's more than scared.

Remus lifts his lips, turns his head to the side, and spits. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "S'all right," he mutters, and reapplies his lips.

James's fingers twist in his hair. "I hate spiders. Didn't before, but now I do. I'm killing every spider I see from now on. You're a good friend. Really. Th'best. Don't think I say it enough."

He _never_ says it, but that's not important. Remus spits a second time, then latches back on. He doesn't know how long this is supposed to take, but too much can't hurt James.

"Really," James continues. "Sirius is like my brother, but you're...you're Moony. You're just _you_ , and that's brilliant. And, look, Moony – if. If this doesn't work and I don't make it back to the castle, you need to do stuff for me. You've got to finish the Map. And you should probably return all the stuff I nicked from Evans. Except that pink bra. With the little rose between the cups. Bury me with it. And Sirius – you've got to take care of him. He's pretty fucked up about his family, and he needs someone to—"

Remus lifts his head and spits again. "You're not dying. So shut up, all right? _This isn't helping._ Anyway, I think you're done." He touches James's skin experimentally. It's purple because he's been sucking on it, but it's not quite as hot as it had been, and the little red lines seem to be disappearing.

"Are you sure?"

"No," Remus admits. "You ought to see Pomfrey anyway. But I'm pretty sure you'll make it to the castle."

 _So, you can probably let go of my hair. In fact, I think you'd better, because..._

He's still hard. For the past few minutes he'd been too worried about James to think about his erection, but it's still there. And, he realizes as James finally does let go and Remus stumbles to his feet and accidentally bumps James with his shoulder – James is hard, too.

"Um," James says.

Remus turns away. "Get dressed. Let's find Sirius and Peter."

"I should thank—"

"You don't have to. I mean, I know. It's fine. You've done plenty for me already. It's about time I paid you back. Let's go."

"But—"

Remus looks back, and that is a mistake because James's trousers are still on the ground around his ankles, and Remus can see the hard, red line of him through his wet y-fronts, and there's that bruise on his thigh, and Remus had done that with his lips, his lips had been _on_ James's thigh, and—

James's thin chest rises and falls quickly as Remus walks back toward him. He inhales sharply when Remus puts his hand on his arse, and he says "Oh," very softly when Remus pulls him close and he feels Remus's erection push against his own.

Remus reaches between them with his free hand and cups James. "Oh," James whispers again, and then he can't say anything more because Remus is kissing his mouth.

Remus tries to imagine he's kissing Sirius, but James's glasses slide down his nose and bump against him, and James is thinner than Sirius, and taller.

It doesn't matter. James tastes and smells of lake water, and kissing him is probably as close as he'll ever come to kissing Sirius. James doesn't pull away, at least, or simply stand there petrified. His lips part when Remus pushes between them with his tongue. He groans with what can only be pleasure when Remus slides two fingers into his y-fronts and teases his balls.

Remus wonders briefly what his own lips taste like. Blood probably. And poison. Then James unzips Remus's jeans and yanks them down, and Remus stops thinking.

His mind returns after they've both come and have staggered apart. Remus clutches at a tree trunk, sucking air into his lungs.

A little ways away, James says raggedly, "I was thinking about Evans. Who were you thinking about?"

The need to know is naked in his voice.

 _Not you_ won't be enough, thinks Remus. It has to be a girl. "Jones," he says quickly while he fumbles with his zipper. "Hestia Jones."

"The Ravenclaw? The one with the big—"

"Yeah," Remus mutters, though he honestly doesn't remember what Hestia Jones looks like. Hers is simply the first name that came to mind.

"Pretty," is James's assessment. "Have you ever...you know...with her?"

"Not yet. But...I want to." He can finally taste the venom on his lips.

05/10/05


End file.
